Mac's Christmas Carol
by Sandra S
Summary: Mac gets a visit. Of three ghosts.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: Starts right after Mac left Harm and Mattie in front of the wall. "A Christmas Carol" brought this story to my mind, so expect some darkness and Mac isn't having an easy time, but it'll work out in the end. In my opinion suitable for H/M shipper, W/M shipper and anyone who likes the character of Mac but not always understands her.

* * *

Slowly Mac walked away from the wall and in the direction of her car. She felt sad and ... yes, somehow rejected. Harm and Mattie had looked so ... happy. A happiness she wasn't invited to share.

She sighed deeply. All these things she had said - about Harm being the man to father her children. She had thought she was past this longing, past this hopeless love. But then again something happened, he did something - said something - and there it was again, hurting like the very first day.

Sighing again she tried to concentrate on the evening ahead, her dinner date with Clay. She knew it was going to be a perfect evening. An excellent restaurant, a light and gentle conversation, time to be herself and let down her guard. Now only Clay had this ability to make her talk without feeling uncomfortable afterwards.

Yes, it felt good to be in his company. As good as it had felt to be in Harm's company in what seemed to be a lifetime ago. Oh God, she felt so helpless, so torn between these two men who were so different and in some things so much alike that it was frightening. Why...

"Ts, ts, ts, Sarah, Sarah."

Mac jumped at the voice at her side. She spun around and stared at a small woman with silver hair wearing a heavy coat and shaking her head at her.

"You're doing it again." More shaking of the head. "Really, what shall we do with you?"

Mac tried to bring her thundering heart under control. She needed a second to find her voice. But when she did, it was an angry one.

"Who are you? And why did you sneak up to me like this?"

The woman looked amused. Her face was young notwithstanding the color of her hair.

"Oh, I'm the Ghosts of Christmas." Her statement sounded like that was the most obvious thing in the world.

'Great, she's nuts.' Mac rolled her eyes and continued walking. The strange voice, and the laughter in it, stopped her again.

"Well, well, so rude, my little Sarah. But an absolutely normal reaction. Most people have the same opinion when they meet me - at first."

Mac turned and narrowed her eyes. She hadn't spoken aloud. She was sure she hadn't spoken aloud. She gave the woman a closer once over. A sudden shiver ran down her spin. That woman had something ... unusual.

"Ah, we're getting closer." Still smiling the woman took a step into Mac's direction and involuntarily Mac took a step back. "Yes, much closer. Thanks to your gift you understand quicker than most of the others."

"G-Gift?" It was difficult to form the word.

"Your visions, stupid little thing. Your visions of course. You're already connected to the world of supernatural so it's easier for you to accept my existence."

Mac regained some of her coolness. "Ah, I forgot. You're a ghost, right?"

The woman still smiled. "Plural, darling. Ghosts. The Ghosts of Christmas to be exact. Come on, you know: The Past, the Present, the Future. There's a very famous tale about us."

"I'm going insane," Mac told herself and turned away.

"No, I wouldn't say so."

Mac screamed and jumped back as the woman suddenly stood right in front of her. She hadn't step around her. She hadn't walked. She had just - appeared.

"Ups, no reason to shout like that." She waved a finger in front of Mac's shocked face. "Do you believe me now?"

"NO!"

The woman sighed. "Well, get a grip then, we don't have all night."

Mac stared at her with big eyes. "What - what do you mean?"

There was a deeper sigh. "All right, once more: I'm the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. And now guess what: You've won in the lottery and got the trip. So let's move it!"

The woman took a step forward and Mac one back.

"No, no, this can't be true, this..." She was desperately searching for a logical explanation - or at least something that would make any sense. "You - you're a woman!"

"Women, so to say. Hey, what have you expected? There are female Marines too. The world doesn't stop turning, even our world."

Mac shook her head clinging to details. "You can't be - can't be three different people - uh, things - uh, ghosts!"

"Oh, that's a matter of definition. You see: past, present and future are in the end nothing more than three different aspects of the same thing. So it doesn't matter if I'm standing here in one appearance or three. Because I'm always three respectively one and so-" The woman looked at Mac's confused and slightly dazed expression. "Well, maybe a little bit much for the beginning. It's possible. Just accept it."

She held out her hand. Mac gazed at it but made no move to take it. She looked into these strange, deep eyes.

"I'm - I'm not greedy."

The woman rolled her eyes. "No, you have other problems."

Once more she held out her hand. And again Mac hesitated.

"Why me?" she asked barely audible.

"Because you're at the brink of doing something terrible."

A third time the woman offered her hand. Mac swallowed. Then she reached out and took it.

* * *

**THE PAST**

Mac the child pressed herself deeper into the corner and wrapped her arms around her head, trying to shut out the noise from downstairs. The drunken voice of her father slurring the words. The sound of flesh making contact with flesh. The screaming and begging of her mother.

Mac the woman gasped.

"Not a pretty memory, I know, but it's necessary to come here."

Mac spun around, anger replacing the terror. "And why-!"

She stopped in mid-sentence. The woman at her side had long red hair, freckles all over her face and was wearing Jeans and a T-shirt. The features of her face had only little similarity to those of the silver- headed woman but the strange eyes were the same. And the gesture as she shook her head.

"The Ghosts of Christmas, remember? And I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past. So, to answer your question: Because here it all began."

Mac turned back to the younger, terrified version of herself, crying silently and rocking back and forth.

"I - I don't understand."

The woman sighed. "When you think back what did happen afterwards. When he had come to his sense again?"

Mac pressed her lips together. Without realizing it she hugged herself.

"Then started the excuses," she whispered finally. And she felt the old bitterness again. "That he'd never do it again. That he was so sorry. That he couldn't live without her."

"And your mother?"

Mac looked away. "She always forgave him. No matter how much she was hurting. No matter what he had said. No matter how bad he had treated her - not better than the dirt under his feet."

"Always but..."

Mac met the woman's eyes. "Always but one day. When she ran away. And left me behind."

"Yes." For the first time the woman's voice showed some sympathy. "And left you behind."

The scene changed.

"Oomph!" Mac found herself pressed into a corner of Harm's old office. The one he had occupied years ago.

"Don't look at me," the Ghost of Christmas Past shrugged, "I've got nothing to do with these shoe-boxes the government calls office."

Mac's answer was cut short by Mic Brumby peering through the door. A sharp sting of pain ripped through her body. She swallowed hard and almost missed the first sentences of the exchange between her former fiancé and her partner. But then her eyes grew bigger with every word and in the end she was gasping for air.

She couldn't believe it. Mic had actually asked Harm if there was something between her and him and Harm had said no. He had practically given his blessing to Mic to try and get her!

The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

The scene changed.

"Oh God!" Mac stood paralyzed in the parking lot of JAG headquarters and watched her younger self kissing Chris. After she had told him to go away. And she remembered what it had felt like.

"Ts, ts." Mac flinched at the disapproving comment at her side. "No wonder you never got divorced."

"It's not like that!" Mac grabbed her arm. "It's not what it looks like!"

"It's never, darling. It's never." The other woman freed her arm.

The scene changed.

This time Mac groaned deeply. She was seeing herself in Farrow's office after Chris had threatened to make their affaire public ... the not longer existing affair ... and she was seeing the looks they exchanged. And it felt... wrong. So damned wrong.

"I'd really say you have a little problem there," her traveling companion quipped.

Mac was about to respond but then something else hit her.

"Hey, stop, wait a minute! None of these things happened at Christmas!"

The woman shrugged. "No, but it doesn't matter. This tale isn't very precise, you know? And besides, regulations have changed since it was written down."

"Changed," scoffed Mac. "Then why Christmas as in Ghosts of Christmas?"

"Oh, because people are more aware of their mistakes in this time of the year. Giving the poor, regretting mistakes, the season of peace and joy and so on. It makes work a lot easier."

"Huh!" Mac snorted.

The woman smirked and the scene changed again.

Mac frowned and looked around. They were definitely on a carrier. And there was a Captain she was sure she knew and Mic and Bud and ... Clayton Webb. She listened a few moments and the memory came back.

"The Stealth-fighter. That went down in Iran. Harm's friend Keeter."

"Oh, good, you remember. Well, here they've just learnt that Iranian troops are heading for your location. Now listen."

Mac's brows rose as she heard Webb express his concern about her safety. She barely heard Bud's explanation to Mic's question that he had talked Clayton into getting Keeter out too. She very well heard Mic's answer why he was sure she would make it back: Because he had promised her a journey. And she very well saw the brief look of despair that flickered over Clayton's face when he heard that response. She covered her mouth with her hand.

"At that time," she whispered shocked, "Even at that time he was in love with me!"

"Oh, yes." The red-headed woman nodded. "He fought against it a long time but yes, he was starting to fall in love with you."

The scene changed.

This time Mac immediately knew where she was. The ferry. In Australia. And she - or better a younger version of herself - was standing there together with Mic.

"No," she said, "No, please. Not here. Don't show me this."

Mic took the ring out and asked her younger self to wear it.

The older Mac closed her eyes and cupped her face in her hands.

"Please, take me away from here!"

Strong fingers pulled her hands down. The strange eyes bored into hers.

"No," the woman said firmly, "Look!"

Hesitantly Mac obeyed the order just when her younger self looked down at the ring on her right hand. And she saw Mic's face. She saw his hope, his fear, his love. She wanted to turn away but she couldn't.

"Please take me away from here!"

"After you've answered one question: Why did you accept the ring?"

"I-I-"

"The truth, Sarah, remember who you're talking to. Was it because Harm had rejected you? Because you were afraid of being alone?"

"No! Yes... maybe a little. But I liked Mic. I really liked him! And I knew so well how he was feeling..."

The woman nodded. "Because you felt the same way when it came to Harm: In love, afraid of being pushed away, afraid of the pain."

Mac once more closed her eyes. "He begged and ... the love in his eyes felt so wonderful. It felt so wonderful to be wanted. I - I didn't want to hurt him. I-"

"Well, you should have done it then. And not later."

Mac opened her eyes and the scene changed.

"My engagement party." Mac looked around. Any blood seemed to leave her face. Suddenly it was so cold she was shivering.

"Exactly. Your engagement party in Admiral Chegwidden's house. Just to give you the timetable: You and Harm are outside and are having your talk."

Mac's face changed from cold to hot. It felt like her cheeks were burning. Outside. Where she had kissed Harm...

"But you're here to see that." The red-headed woman pointed across the room. "You may find this very interesting."

Slowly Mac turned around. Mic. And Renee. Sitting side by side and looking worried. As she watched Renee wanted to get up and Mic held her back. His words made her dizzy.

"... I'll have Sarah for the rest of my life. Let's give them time to say goodbye."

Renee hesitated then agreed. But the expression on her face showed clearly her fear and pain. As did Mic's.

Mac couldn't stand this sight any more and turned away.

"Oh, God, why are you showing me this? You want me to say I made a mistake? Yes! Yes, I did! That I treated Mic and even Renee in a horrible way? Yes, yes, I know that! I know it! You want to hear me say how much I regret what I did? That I'm sorry? All right, I regret it! And YES, I'm sorry! You can't imagine how sorry I am. I never intended to hurt Mic. I just... Oh, never mind what was going on in my head. What I did was wrong and if I could change the past I'd stop it before-"

"No one can change the past, Sarah. And if you feel any better: It wasn't entirely you fault. Harm has to take his fair share of the blame because he did nothing to stop you. Neither one way nor the other. I admit it's very difficult to be true to oneself as long as you are exchanging looks of this intensity with a man. This man has some serious problems too."

"Then why - why-"

The woman held up a hand. "Patience, Sarah, you'll understand. Oh, yes, you'll understand."

The scene changed.

Mac drew in a deep breath. The USS Guadalcanal. The stateroom where she and Harm had talked the first time - really talked the first time - since Mic had walked away from her. And of course there was Harm and again a younger self of her and of course they were arguing.

"I know what happened here. I asked Harm what he was willing to give up to have me. If he was willing to give up Renee. But he didn't answer. And when he did - two years later - it made things even worse."

"Shh! Listen." The Ghost of Christmas Past raised a warning finger. Mac was too worn out to argue and faced the fighting couple.

She - her younger self - spoke her final words and stormed out of the room. And so she didn't hear Harm's soft answer.

"Yeah, I would give her up."

Mac - the older one - sobbed. "Oh God, if I had waited only one more second! If I had just..."

Tears swallowed the rest of her words. Her traveling companion tilted her head.

"If, yes. But I already told you: No one can change the past. Now, well, this could have been the end of the story. But it wasn't."

The scene changed.

The end of the JagAThon-race. A sweating, panting Harm and a sweating, panting Mac were talking to each other.

"... so where does this leave us?"

"I don't know, Mac. At the end, I guess."

"How about back at the beginning?"

The red-headed woman raised her brows at the older Mac. Who made a defensive gesture with her hands.

"What do you want from me? We worked it out. And not even a year later we were able to work with each other without any hard feelings. Like we did in Afghanistan. We got along."

"You've got a strange definition of getting along," mumbled the woman. "If I remember correctly there were several - uh - nasty exchanges, especially when you were a judge." She eyed Mac closely. "Anyway, I think we can skip these special memories - it looks like you're ready for the present."

Mac opened her mouth to say something but the scene changed already...


	2. Final Chapter

Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**THE PRESENT**

"No. NO!" screamed Mac. "This isn't the present. This is still the past!"

She saw herself bending over a seriously injured Clayton Webb, slumped into the passenger's seat of a car. He looked terrible and his raspy voice sounded even more terrible to listen to.

"Sarah... I need you..."

And the Mac of this past silenced him with a kiss.

"Well, most people tend to forget that the present is always related to both, the past and the future and can never stand alone. In fact it's very difficult to tell was exactly the present is. The moment I speak this sentence? But now it's already in the past. When you're just about to do something it's still in the future. So the present is always floating. It exists and it doesn't exist. It's the tiny moment between past and future... See what I mean?"

Mac turned her head and stared wide-eyed at her traveling companion.

The woman was taller this time and her blonde hair was very short. She crossed her arms and smiled. An elegant evening dress hugged her body. "Again a little bit much, huh?"

"The Ghost of Christmas Present, I assume?" stated Mac through gritted teeth.

"Well, well, you're getting better, darling. Now back to that kiss." The woman wiggled her brows. "What was it this time? Pity? Comfort? Or did I notice a tiny, tiny spark there?"

Mac thought about that thoroughly before she answered. Finally she sighed. "It was pity. And I was trying to comfort him. But it also was... I've never felt so - close to anyone before. Not even to Harm. I don't now why not even to Harm. These hours of fear, of pain... It changed me. I've been in danger before, in life-threatening situations, but never like this... Never... I've never been so..."

"Helpless?" suggested the woman gently when Mac trailed off.

Mac nodded slowly. "Helpless, yes. HELPLESS. I thought Gunny had been killed and he was supposed to be our backup... What a joke. What a cruel cosmic joke." She glanced down without seeing anything. "I... I had lost control. I... I wasn't able to do anything to help myself, to help us... And I ... have never been so scared in my life." She looked back up into these strange old-young eyes. "It changed me. It changed everything."

The woman held her gaze steadily. "And then Harm came."

Mac just nodded again.

"And he didn't understand," finished the woman.

"No," Mac answered, "He didn't understand." She drew in a deep breath. "We were bitching and biting at each other all the time down in Paraguay. Some things... Let's just leave it with the arguments have been pretty ugly sometimes."

"Oh, yes, that guy was really mad at you."

Mac ignored her. "And as glad as I was to see Clay up and walking ... he just added fuel to the fire."

"Well, what is the saying? There's only one thing worse than a jealous man in love: Two jealous men in love."

Mac shot her a sour look.

"Freely interpreted," added the woman and smirked. "Let's see... Oh, yes, what a perfect transition because the next stop is ... there!"

The scene changed.

Mac groaned. Clayton's hospital room as she visited him together with Harm.

"Really a classic arrangement," the woman mused aloud. "Here two men - can we call them friends? Ah, maybe that's a little bit strong - and there the woman, playing with their feelings, playing one off against the other..." She threw a critical glance skywards or better to the ceiling. "Ts, ts, it's getting old, you know that? This story with the apple should really..."

"I'm NOT playing one off against the other!" Mac exploded finally. "Clay is hurt! He needs me! And Harm is acting like - like someone right out of high school!"

"Hey, hey." The woman held up her hands. "You don't have to tell me! I know that you've got two extraordinary complicated specimens of man here."

"HE had the right to tell me it can't be," Mac went on, fuming. "But when I've told him we can't be more than friends-"

"Uh, I think the 'Can't we be just friends' speech isn't very high on a man's hit-list after the girl has told him no," interrupted the woman.

Mac waved her off. "Anyway, I've told him it's over!"

"But you still can't turn away from him," the Ghost of Christmas Present answered calmly. "No matter what he says."

The scene changed.

Mac looked around in shock.

"Ah, I jumped two steps ahead. But I think that little scene in the court room including some remarks about addiction is still very vivid in your mind." The woman fluttered her eyelashes.

"This scene is also very vivid in my mind," murmured Mac sadly.

They were standing in her own apartment and listened to the harsh exchange between her and Harm about cutting one another out of their lives, about need and responsibility.

"Forget about it. It's too important for you to screw up!" Harm stormed out and Mac's other self stared shocked at the door.

"You must really be in love," commented the blonde, "You take a lot from him and still forgive him no matter how much it hurts. Any other woman would have kicked him out of her life a long time ago."

"He - he was upset," Mac mumbled, "He was afraid they'd send Mattie to a foster home..."

"That's exactly what I mean: You may have told him no but you're still thinking about him, dreaming of him. You're clinging to the hope that he'll finally declare his love to you. And you're showing him this."

Mac started with a response but the woman wiggled once more her finger.

"Oh, I don't hold it against you, darling. Your Commander is really a man worth fighting for as long as you are able to take him. And your testimony in court - and the way you talked to little Mattie's father - was really prove of your kind heart. It's difficult to find something like that in our days, believe me."

Mac stared at her. The woman held her gaze and smiled.

"In fact your kind heart is part of the problem. What brings us-" Her appearance changed. Curly dark hair fell down on her shoulders, a black pantsuit clad her body. "- to the future..."

And again the scene changed.

* * *

**THE FUTURE**

An older version of Mac sat on the edge of an armchair in a spacious living- room and seemed to be waiting. Her hands were clasped tightly together and her knuckles had turned white from the force.

Suddenly Clayton walked in through the door at the other end of the room. He held a small suitcase. He refused to meet her pleading eyes.

"I'll ask our lawyer to start with the papers right away. There's no reason this divorce shouldn't be handled ... civilized."

Mac got up. Her eyes were shining with tears.

"Clayton, please. Don't - don't end it like this."

He shook his head. "We don't have to end it, Sarah. It has never been there."

"That isn't true! I love you, Clay. I've spent these years with you because I wanted to. I just..." she trailed off.

"Sarah." Clayton looked so tired - and so sad. "I don't hold against you that you are not in love with me. But I do hold against you that you accepted my proposal but didn't live with your decision. Instead you've kept asking yourself how it would have been with Harm." He turned away. "And I hold against myself that I've ever told you how much I love you."

"Clay. Clay, please..."

"I'm sorry, Sarah. I can't stand this any more. I can't stand to be with you but never have you."

"Clay...!" Mac sobbed. She reached out but he left the room without looking back. The front door fell shut and Mac broke down on the floor.

Mac - the younger one - was as white as snow. She looked at the Ghost of Christmas Future who was watching the scene with a stony expression.

"No," she whispered. "This is what's going to happen? That I'll hurt him like I hurt Mic only deeper?"

The other woman turned her eyes to her. Mac swallowed. She felt terrible.

"So it's Harm? You want to show me that I have to choose Harm and-"

"Well," the dark-headed woman interrupted her mildly, "There's another future for you to see."

The scene changed.

"I can't believe it, Harm! What have you been thinking! This plane is a prototype and far from being safe! You've promised me-"

"Please, Mac," Harm sighed. He ran his fingers through his gray hair. "You know how much it's meant to me because it is a prototype. It was a damned honor they've asked me at all."

"Oh, I see! No, of course you couldn't say no!"

"And here we go again! It's still the same! You'll never stop complaining about me! Why can't you just take me as I am? Like I do? After all these years you're still trying to change me!"

"That's not true! And you never took me as I am! But I was willing to change myself and I've given up a lot to be with you! And you just take it for granted."

"To be with me? Mac, sometimes I'm not sure you're with me even when we are in the same room together! Ever since our wedding I've got the feeling you're drifting away from me! I don't have you, Mac. Not your heart."

"Harm..."

"Please, Mac. Do you really think I haven't noticed that you still feel something for Webb? That you still ask yourself how it would have been with him?"

"Harm, please..."

"Oh, stop it, Mac. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of this lie. There is no us, Mac. There has never been." Harm stormed out of the room. A door fell shut. Mac sank down on a chair and pressed a hand to her mouth.

"No," whispered the other Mac quietly and wiped a tear away. "No. Everything is wrong. Oh, Harm, Clay. Our love really is the child of a cruel father."

"Hm, that's a good one," remarked her traveling companion, "I've got to keep it in mind."

"Ooh!" Mac spat and turned away. She closed her eyes. She felt like she had aged a hundred years since this strange journey had started. She took a trembling breath.

"So whoever I'll choose I'll only bring pain and sorrow to him. So the moral of the tale is to give up all men and stay single for the rest of my life?" She laughed bitterly. "All right, maybe that's be best I can do!"

"It would be a possibility," stated the woman at her side, "But there's a problem..."

And the scene changed.

An old Mac was sitting at a kitchen-table and staring at her hands. She hadn't aged well. Deep bitter lines were engraved in her face, the loneliness in her eyes so obvious that even a single look at her hurt. She was sitting motionless, waiting for something that had never happened and now never would happen.

"You never got over Harm," the dark-headed woman explained mercilessly. "Or over Clayton. You've blocked any new relationship because you couldn't stop thinking of what might have been if you choose one of them..."

"Stop it. Stop it! STOP IT!" The younger Mac turned away, violently shaking her head and pressing both hands to her ears. "I don't want to know this! I don't want to see this! What do you want from me? I'm condemned whatever decision I'm going to make! Isn't it like that? So why are you doing this to me? What should I learn out of this journey? What do you want? WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"I want you to understand."

And the scene changed one last time.

Mac stumbled and looked around. She was back where it had begun: she was standing in the darkness not far from the wall. And the silver-headed woman was facing her. A sob shook her and then she hugged herself crying.

A long time passed until she finally calmed down. Emotionally drained from this wild rollercoaster ride through her life at breathtaking speed. And feeling a despair that was beyond anything bearable. But somehow she found the strength to look up and meet the woman's eyes.

"What do you want from me," she repeated one more time.

"To understand your problem," answered the Ghosts of Christmas softly, "Because you don't know when you have to let go."

Mac moved her head, unable to ask again.

"You never get divorced from Chris because you remembered only the good times and buried the bad. You looked at Farrow the way you did because you couldn't let go of the past. You accepted Mic's ring because you didn't want to hurt him with a no. You answered Harm's looks of longing because you couldn't stop feeling the same. You couldn't - can't turn your back on Harm - concerning a possible relationship - because you don't want to close that door. And for the same reason you can't accept this new relationship with Clayton now - and can't end it at the same time."

The woman paused and considered her closely. "You remember the first stop in the past I took you to?"

Mac's eyes grew wide.

"Yes, your parents had the same problem." The woman nodded and looked at her for a long, long moment. "There is no beginning without an ending. No joy without pain. This has already gone too far. You must decide, Sarah. Here, now, in this night and this place because you're the only one who can disentangle this web you and these two men are caught in right now. And yes, your decision will hurt at least one of them - or both. And it will probably destroy their friendship forever. But otherwise the consequences are terrible - for all of you."

Mac drew in a trembling breath. "But how should I know what's the right decision? You've shown me the future and..."

The woman shook her head and Mac went silent.

"Then you haven't learnt anything. Sarah, the future has not been written down yet. And there's no wrong decision, no right. The answer is the decision itself." She looked into Mac's confused face and sighed.

"Sarah, it doesn't matter if you turn around and go back to Harm over there and fight for his love. But if you do, really do, he's never going to let you down."

And suddenly Mac saw Harm walking away from the wall together with Mattie. And she saw him look back over his shoulder but it wasn't the wall his gaze was searching for. He was looking in the direction she had walked away earlier and his face was full of longing. Mac swallowed hard.

"It doesn't matter if you go forward and accept this love Clayton is offering so freely to you and asking so little in return. If you do, really do, he's a man easy to fall in love with."

And she saw Clay, standing in his apartment and feeding his fish. He peered into the tank, a sad expression on his face. Then he turned around and looked at the photograph of her that stood on the next table. The photo he had asked her for. And a loving smile lit up his face. Mac closed her eyes for a moment.

"And it doesn't matter if you choose to walk away and find a life for yourself because if you do, really do, you'll find the happiness you deserve. But you have to make this decision here-" The woman put a hand over her heart. "And you must be true to yourself when you make it. When you live with it. No regrets, Sarah. Never."

Mac thought about that for a long time. And the burden to make this decision tightened her heart. Finally she wiped the tears off her face. Her voice sounded feeble in her own ears.

"But I - I don't know how to do it."

The woman smiled and held a hand in front of her eyes.

"Close your eyes, Sarah, and listen. Listen to your heart."

Mac swallowed and did as she was told. At first her thoughts were running wild. But then, almost imperceptible, something happened to her. She felt the presence of the Ghosts of Christmas like a warming blanket around her. Fear and worry dropped from her like heavy wet clothes. She breathed deeply. It felt like the world itself slowed down and finally came to a rest.

And there, in this quiet and peace, her heart decided.

A smile spread over her face as a weight she had never realized to be there was lifted from her soul. The burden of her childhood was taken away and she was free. She thought she felt the touch of gentle fingers.

"Thank you," Mac whispered softly. When she opened her eyes she wasn't surprised to see that the silver-headed woman was gone.

* * *

The end.

Author's note: Who or what Mac chose? Well, what do you think? Because this time it's up to any reader to decide what he or she likes best. Thanks for the reviews.


End file.
